


What-ifs and Would-have-beens

by katanashipping (stopbeingbored)



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types, Usagi Yojimbo
Genre: M/M, Romance, UA - universe alteration, basically a fixer upper because canon screwed up ok. they screwed up so bad with this one, samurai tourist, what if au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6204343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopbeingbored/pseuds/katanashipping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time, Gen follows not only his friend but also the plan. This time, Usagi reaches out and holds on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What-ifs and Would-have-beens

**Author's Note:**

> Samurai Tourist!UA in which Gen doesn’t screw up everyone’s lives over a pretzel. And nothing changes, except for the things that do.

Leonardo jumps down from the uppermost story with such a nonchalance that it makes Usagi’s heart stop for a moment. It is not until his friend grabs hold of a stray rope and slows the fall into a controlled descent that he breathes again. Leonardo lands in a crouch, immediately flowing into the first stances of a kata. His movements are flawless, but just that much too fast, too tense. Usagi closes his eyes and rallies himself. Splinter was right. Something _is_ wrong with his best friend.

But how to proceed? Leonardo does not need another teacher; he already has one of the best. He needs a friend, perhaps, yet he is constantly surrounded by a loving family. Maybe Usagi can be both, pillar and companion at the same time, such as his sensei Katsuichi was to him.

 _Katsuichi_ … That reminds him.

“The sharpest blade in all the lands is useless in untrained hands,” he says, as Leonardo shifts into a new stance. “But I wonder what they say of _overtrained_ hands.”

Leonardo starts. It is not terribly obvious, but there is a split second where he goes utterly still in anticipation before he lowers his hands and turns around.

“Usagi,” he says, his voice raw with surprise and lack of sleep and sheer, unmasked _hurt_ , and it takes all Usagi has in him not to get up from the floor and reach for him right there, right then. He stays where he is, fists on his knees, and waits.

Leonardo sheathes his swords. “I didn’t think anyone would be awake so early after last night,” he says.

 _Yet here you are,_ Usagi thinks. Says nothing. Sits. Waits.

Leonardo comes closer, his face more guarded than Usagi has ever seen it, even when they first met. And something inside of him gives.

“I wanted to speak with you alone, Leonardo-san,” he says, made reckless with the fear for his friend, his – well. He can taste metal on his tongue, testimony of the effort it takes to keep his voice from shaking. “Your eyes betray you. They show me the oppressive burden you have chosen to shoulder.”

He half expects Leonardo to deny everything, but the kame merely looks away, then gives a sharp nod. “Someone has to carry it,” he says.

And Usagi doesn’t know what’s worse – that Leonardo admits his pain so freely, or that despite his openness nobody seems to be able to handle him, least of all himself. He wonders if Leonardo speaks like this to his family, wonders if they have ever dared ask for a share of his pain, caught up as they are in their own terror and grief.

At least some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because Leonardo’s jaw tightens. “Up for some sparring?” he asks curtly.

Maybe this is best, Usagi thinks as he gets to his feet. Splinter mentioned Leonardo’s newfound obsession with practice, with bettering himself. Yet when Usagi first stepped through the portal, he did not miss the irregular line of slashed ropes, the sand still pouring from Raphael’s punching bag. Well, he knows how to read his opponent’s thoughts in battle, knows Leonardo does as well. Fighting is as good as talking to them.

“You know I am,” he says and draws his katana.

..~{ | }~..

Their fight is a dance, a collaboration. Neither of them gives the other an inch, but, and Usagi registers this with growing relief, neither of them _oversteps_ , either. Leonardo has gotten better, that much is certain, faster than ever and stronger to match. Harder to read, too, Usagi notices, but not as much as he may think he is. And in all his anger he is not after innocent blood.

Usagi knows that when it comes to experience, to technique, he is still better. If this was a match to the death, the outcome would favour him. But he can’t deny that he _is_ tired, lack of sleep and lack of rest sucking the strength from his arms faster than he would like. Just days ago, he ran into an ambush, made careless by the urge to follow Splinter’s invitation. His leg still twinges where a club connected with his calf, and all of a sudden it gives. Usagi rolls with it, can see the katana coming at his head from the corner of his eye and knows that _this is where they find out_.

The sword bounces off the tatami mat behind him, swaying from its straight path down. Usagi gets to his feet, blocks the next strike, relief pouring off him in waves.

Leonardo’s arms are shaking slightly. It occurs to Usagi that maybe his friend didn’t know if he could stop in time, either.

Seems they were both right to trust in Leonardo.

And now that the body has spoken, the mouth fills in the rest.

“Thank you,” Usagi says, watches Leonardo’s mouth turn into a thin line, watches him turn away even as he strikes again.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he murmurs, his voice dark amidst the singing of steel on steel. “Just because I am not holding the blade doesn’t mean I won’t get you killed.”

Usagi waits, raises an eyebrow when that is all. “I do not understand,” he says, which is a lie, but at this point all it takes for Leonardo to keep talking is an excuse.

“My family needed me,” Leonardo says. “And I couldn’t save them.”

The new scar that runs down his shoulder and into the ragged edges of his shell is very prominent in the artificial light, an angry, mottled green against emerald skin. Usagi wonders when his friend has last seen sunlight. He spins, aiming for uninjured shell, but Leonardo blocks him at the last moment. “I was useless,” he growls, his voice louder than before as he charges. This time it has nothing to do with finesse and everything with bodily contact. Usagi sidesteps only just. His wakizashi locks with Leonardo’s katanas, bringing them face to face at last. Amongst the grinding of metal, Leonardo’s words are almost lost when he says, “I wasn’t good enough.”

He pushes away before Usagi can reply, but this time the samurai will not be so easily avoided. He leaps, and Leonardo follows suit, their swords clashing in mid-air. Neither of them is injured. It is like a miracle, the way they fit together, Usagi thinks. Maybe he really _can_ make this work.

“I understand your fear and anger in this, Leonardo-san,” he says. _Make him understand._ “My own master was cut down in battle.” Their swords lock again. Between him and Leonardo’s face Usagi can see his own reflection mirrored in the blades, the scar on his forehead vivid even after all these years. He can feel his determination fade. Leonardo is not even looking at him. Maybe this was a mistake. “My own master was cut down in battle,” he says, and this time it is his voice that is raw, because he may have moved on, but the pain is still there. “Right by my side—“

He can’t. He can’t do this, can’t keep fighting and talk about that day at the same time. He straightens his spine, releases the pressure on Leonardo’s katana. “It was my duty to protect him,” he says quietly. “I, too, failed.”

“Usagi,” Leonardo breathes. Usagi can hear him get up. He hadn’t realized he closed his eyes, against the memory or the present he couldn’t say. “I’m sorry,” his friend says, his voice betraying the same emotions Usagi felt not half an hour ago, sitting by that pillar. “I didn’t know.”

Usagi does not smile, but he does open his eyes, willing Leonardo to understand. “Failure. Fear.” He shrugs, sheathes his sword. Their sparring match is over. This is a time for words, uninterrupted by their movements. “In the lives we lead, these things are inevitable. How we deal with them, that is the true test of our character.”

And he reaches out and places a hand on Leonardo’s shoulder, where the scar pulses against his skin.

“I know,” Leonardo says, his voice strained. “But – it’s just that I –“

Pause.

In another universe, Gennosuke uses the distraction to slip out of the lair in search for opportunity. In another universe, Mikey suddenly realizes that while he was eavesdropping, their guest has gone missing. In another universe, Leonardo does not get to finish his sentence, and less than a month later he finally buries the part of him that died on the Shredder’s ship for good and leaves.

In another universe, the story of Miyamoto Usagi and Hamato Leonardo ends here.

But.

The moment Gen reaches for the lever that will open the sewer entrance, he hears the clashing of swords. And, in an uncharacteristically considerate moment that splits history, he decides to forego immediate personal gain. Instead, albeit with the silent resolve to milk Usagi for a dinner for this, he returns to his room.

And.

Leonardo sighs, and keeps on sighing.

Very slowly, he sinks to his knees. His swords slip from his grip, dull thuds against the tatami mats, as he covers his face with his hands.

“I just keep thinking – what I could have done differently, and – and I just…”

Usagi kneels down, close enough that their knees are almost touching. He has held people who were dying before, but suddenly he is not sure that either of them will be able to get away from it unscathed if he were to reach out now.

Leonardo saves him the trouble. With one last heaving gulp of air, he leans forward and rests his head against Usagi’s chest.

For a moment, Usagi simply freezes. But as shivers continue to run up and down his friend’s body, wrecking his bulky form that is so strangely fragile before him, Usagi wraps his arms around Leonardo’s shoulders and holds on for both of them.

“I can’t think of anything,” Leonardo whispers against his skin. “There was – there was nothing. There was nothing that would have changed anything, because he was strong and I was weak and _I was not good enough_.”

Usagi holds on, doesn’t even flinch when Leonardo twists his hands into the thin silk of his haori, pinching strands of hair in his fists. “I know it’s too late now,” Leonardo mutters. “I know, I know, but I don’t, I don’t, I don’t –“

Usagi understands that, too, and he understands what is coming next.

When Leonardo screams, allows all his anguish to explode outwards into the insufficient container of Usagi’s chest, when Mikey jumps to his feet and Raphael storms towards the railing next to him, eyes wide, when Don falls off his chair, when Splinter drops his bowl of incense on the floor in his room, Usagi holds on.

“You shoulder so much,” he whispers, lost to anyone but them amidst the dying noise of Leonardo’s pain. “The safety of this entire planet. It was never given to you, but you took it anyway. And you were ready to die and then you survived. _I know_.”

He is aware of eyes on them, but nobody else moves, and neither do they until at last, Leonardo softens his grip and takes a deep breath.

“What do I do with this, now?” he asks, and he doesn’t need to gesture for Usagi to understand that what he means by _this_ is _me, being alive._

“I am not going to lie to you,” Usagi says, and Leonardo raises his head and looks at him. They are so close that Usagi can see the individual scales on his cheeks, magnified by his tears, can smell the tea on Leonardo’s breath. His heart aches. “For a while, it will feel like this is you now,” he says. Soft. Urgent. “The one who kills and dies for others. It will feel like the natural next step. _Don’t let it._ ”

Leonardo sniffles. His gaze falls on his hands, still twisted into the material of Usagi’s clothes, and for the first time he seems to realize what is happening. He lets go too quickly, his whole body flinching back from this weakness too fast for Usagi to hold on. They are left sitting too close but no longer touching, with Usagi’s heart hammering away in his chest and Leonardo’s cheeks a mottled green. He wonders if this is it, if he overstepped too many lines this time, when Leonardo smiles, watery and terrified and bright.

“I think,” he breathes, “that I need help.”

Usagi nods, not sure what else there is to say.

His best friend makes as if to stand, but hesitates. “Before – can I…?”

And because Usagi understands, he nods, and pulls him in for one last hug before they get to their feet. Leonardo holds his hand as they walk towards the door to Splinter’s room, just lightly, drawing strength and giving it. It feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“Thank you,” he says before he finally lets go and knocks on his father’s door.

 _I want to kiss you,_ Usagi thinks, so suddenly and overwhelmingly that he kneels stunned for the majority of the commencing conversation until Splinter turns his gaze on him.

“Miyamoto-san,” he says.

“Yes,” Usagi says and gets to his feet.

They smile at each other. But next to Usagi, Leonardo is shaking again. Usagi’s shirtfront is still damp, and now his own eyes are burning, his cheeks hot with shame. How can he even think such a thing? And at a time like this, like he is determined to hurt his best friend ever more, his best friend who is now preparing to leave for an uncertain return?

..~{ | }~..

Kojima has the worst timing of any assassin Usagi has ever met, and that is saying something. All he had wanted was one last day with his friends, one last attempt at normalcy, but that, too, was taken from them. _Usagi’s fault._ Well, Gen’s fault, when it comes down to it, but Gennosuke is not even there for the battle. When Leonardo’s family drops through the crumbling roof, slumps down against a wall, Usagi wonders if it may all have been for nothing, if this is how it ends.

Kojima fights dirty, and Leonardo is distracted enough to let it catch him by surprise. _Usagi’s fault._

But when he leaps, crosses the rooftop faster than he can ever remember running before to lock blades with the fiend, he feels something else. “You shall not have him, assassin,” he snarls, and the sheer force of his anger takes them all by surprise, even Kojima himself.

They beat him, their anger and grief and fear materializing as a strength that Usagi doesn’t recognize, doesn’t want ever again, but they beat him.

Gen leaves.

And there is the portal, and there are the Hamato brothers, and there is Leonardo who has just decided to leave soon.

“My friends,” Usagi says. “I pray that when next we meet, it is under happier circumstances.”

“Thank you for visiting, Usagi,” Leonardo says when his brothers are out of earshot. “It’s always good to see you.”

“Leonardo-san,” Usagi says. “You must… let go of this pain you carry. These feelings of guilt… A true bushido warrior accepts what he cannot change.”

It rings hollow even in his own ears, although he means every word of it. He, too, will have much to think about in the coming months. Inevitably, Usagi’s eyes wander to Leonardo’s mouth, then drop down to the scar on his shoulder. Yes. Perhaps it is time for another pilgrimage of his own.

But Leonardo closes his eyes.

“I am grateful for your concern, Usagi,” he says. “But I will decide what I can and cannot change.”

They bow. Keenly, Usagi yearns for the more intimate touch of another hug; keenly, he is aware that it would not be welcome.

“I wish you a safe journey, my friend,” Leonardo says and turns away.

Usagi hesitates.

In another universe, Usagi stills his own hand, and Leonardo walks away. In another universe, Splinter thanks the ronin for his help and sends him on his way. In another universe, Leonardo leaves for Japan bitter but without the added terror of having hurt his loved ones, and he comes back better. In another universe, Usagi returns to his own dimension, donates the money from Kojima’s capture to an orphanage, and continues on his journey.

They meet again, at some point, when they are older and wiser and less rash in their decisions. And they write. And they stay friends for the rest of their lives. In another universe, the story of Miyamoto Usagi and Hamato Leonardo is a scrapbook of what-ifs and ink.

But.

In an uncharacteristic moment of clarity that splits history, Usagi takes a step forward, to where the back of his best friend is forming a wall between them. With tentative fingers, he reaches out for one last touch.

And.

Grabs a hold of Leonardo’s wrist.

“And I, you,” he says. “My friend…”

Leonardo does not look at him, but he does not free his arm either. Usagi swallows, then presses on. “I know Japan,” he says. “Should you need anything, anything at all, please… I only ask that you let me help.”

A shiver runs down Leonardo’s body. “Yes,” he says after a pause, and then he turns back around and faces his friend. “Thank you. I… Thank you, Usagi.”

Usagi’s heart flutters. His fingers are still wrapped around Leonardo’s wrist. Somehow, he finds himself unable to let go.

“Before,” Leonardo murmurs, so low it is little more than a whisper, “can I…?”

And because Usagi understands, he steps closer, until he can see the individual scales on his best friend’s cheeks, smell the tea on his breath.

Their foreheads touch.

“Will you wait for me?” Leonardo asks in a small voice, their lips so close they are almost touching. “When I come back, will you be there?”

“Always,” Usagi whispers back.

They do not kiss, then. But in this universe, it is only a matter of time.

..~{ | }~..

Leonardo holds Usagi’s hand as they walk up to the portal, drawing strength and giving it.

It feels like the most natural thing in the world.

 


End file.
